Left Behind
by Crystal187
Summary: **NOW COMPLETED** When Christian left his home in London to pursue his dreams in Montmarte, he left someone behind. Don't worry, this story has no romance between Christian and someone other than Satine. Please read & review!
1. A Dreamer

Okay, here I go. I don't own anything except for Christian's sister Rebecca. Everything MR belongs to Baz Lurhmann. 

Summary: When Christian left London for Montmarte, he left someone behind. Don't worry, this story has no romance between Christian and someone other than Satine. 

I've had this idea for a little while and the other day I just wrote it all down, even though I really never planned to post it. Oh, what the heck, I thought. I'll just take a risk and post it. Well, I really hope you like it. Feel free to give constructive criticism or whatever you want. Oh yeah, my other story "Behind the Moulin Rouge" got deleted for all of those wondering why I haven't continued it. Oh well.

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Chapter 1

I remember the way my brother used to be, before he went to Montmartre; before the Moulin Rouge; before Satine.

He was the only one I had after Mother died when I was four and he was nine. There was Father, of course, but the old bible-thumping, strict business man never showed any kind of emotion toward us whatsoever, except anger. If Father cared anything for us, he sure didn't show it. He worked hard at the company that he had founded and bought us everything we wanted, but he didn't care. He hired a nanny to take care of us, and she was hardly more loving than he was. 

Father had always expected that my brother Christian would take over the company when he was older; hence the company's name, "James and Sons Inc." But Christian was not meant for that dreadful place. He was a dreamer even as a young child. He would spend most of his free time in the library, reading books from Father's vast collection. He was especially fascinated with the works of William Shakespeare. 

"His works are so amazing," he would tell me with a distant, dreamy look in his eyes. "The way Romeo and Juliet express their love for each other...such wonderful poetry..." He trailed off. 

That's where he developed his passion, his reason for living; his obsession with love.

He would go on and on about all the great love stories he read. He never stopped talking about it. He would even talk about it with Father, who would constantly ridicule him. 

Yes, he was in love with love. 

"Love is like oxygen," Christian declared one night at dinner. "We need it to live, it..."

"Nonsense," Father interrupted. "You and your ridiculous obsession with love. You're wasting your time, boy. Love doesn't get you anywhere in life. Only hard work and ambition can get you anything."

Christian stayed silent rather than get into an argument. He knew what Father was capable of when he was really angry.

My brother and I confided in each other. I would tell him about school and how much I hated etiquette lessons, and he would preach to me about love. He started writing when he was about twelve years old. He would write poetry, songs, short stories, and sometimes even plays, letting me read some of them. Most of them were about love. He was very talented, even at his young age. And he had a beautiful singing voice. 

One evening, when Christian was twenty-two and I was seventeen, Father came into the library to find Christian and I chatting about some of the books.

"Son, I need to talk to you about something," Father interrupted. Christian glanced at me. "Alone," Father added.

"Yes, sir," Christian replied.

"Come to my office," Father commanded. Christian followed him out, turning his head quickly to smile and give me a little salute before going out the door. I figured they were probably talking about the company or something. I was wrong.

Christian came storming into the library awhile later. "Damn him!" he shouted, slamming his fist on the surface of the desk. I just stared at him wide-eyed, afraid to say anything, wondering what had happened. 

"He's arranging my marriage! With some girl I've never even met before!"

"Oh," I said softly. "Well, didn't you know this would happen?" I asked carefully. "I mean, you didn't think he would just let you marry anyone anytime you wanted, did you?"

He stared at me for a moment. "No, I guess I knew. I was somewhat in denial, though. I didn't expect this to happen so soon. You'd think he would wait until I'm a little older."

"Well," I began, "I think he wants you to settle down. I think he's worried that you'll refuse to take over the company, and maybe you being married will force you to reconsider."

"You're right," he said, turning to gaze out the window. "But I won't marry someone I don't love."

"Give it a chance. Who knows? Maybe you _will _learn to love her," I advised. 

He turned to look at me and smiled weakly. "How'd you get so smart?"

I shrugged. "Who is she anyway?"

"Sarah Walker," he replied. "Her father is supposedly extremely rich. She lives on the other side of town. I've never even seen her before." He sat down on the settee. "She and her father are coming over for dinner tomorrow night."

I said nothing. I just hoped that this wouldn't end up a huge disaster.

Christian was a nervous wreck the next night, even though he kept insisting that he didnt care. He and I hid behind the staircase when Sarah and her father knocked on the door. The maid answered the door and let them in while we tried to get a glimpse of the woman who was to become Christian's wife and my sister-in-law.

She was very plain looking, with her pale blonde hair pulled up tightly away from her face. I immediately noticed her stiff posture. I glanced at Christian, unable to see his reaction. 

"Christian! Rebecca!" Father shouted all of the sudden. We jumped out from behind the staircase, trying to make it look like we came from the kitchen. 

"This is my daughter, Rebecca," Father said, gesturing toward me, "and this is my son, Christian."

"Pleased to meet you," I said. Sarah glanced at me quickly, seeming uninterested.

"Uh...ah, yes...pleased to meet you," Christian stammered. I had to cover my mouth to keep from laughing. Sarah didn't seem to care. She just nodded.

"Well, shall we eat?" Father inquired (fortunate for Christian). Everyone agreed and we made our way to the dining room.

Nothing much happened during the dinner. After receiving many of Father's "looks", Christian tried to make conversation with Sarah, to no avail. She would either nod or give a simple one word answer. She appeared awfully bored and not interested in anything Christian had to say. I knew that she was also being forced into this marriage, and she didn't care who she married, as long as he had money. She was merely doing her duty, being the woman that she was brought up to be, accepting her fate.

She doesn't deserve Christian, I remember thinking. Christian is better; he's different. 

But there was nothing I could do about it.

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Okay that's the first chapter. I might have trouble writing the second chapter cuz I'm getting pretty busy. Anyway, please review and tell me what you think!


	2. Compromise

Okay, here's the next chapter. I think this chapter is kinda weird, but oh well. I'm still not positive on where I'm going with this story.

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Chapter 2: Compromise

Life went on. I hardly ever saw Christian because of my schooling and lessons and his frequent visits with Sarah. Not that he had a choice. Father forced him to dress up and constantly attend social events with his new fiancee.

"For God's sake, you're engaged to the woman! Act like it!" Father would command. Christian would bite his lower lip and hold back any complaints. I feared that he would eventually not be able to hold back any longer, which would surely end up a disaster.

Sarah would come over for dinner quite often, barely even uttering a word the whole time. After dinner, she, Christian, and I would go into the sitting room while our Fathers' discussed business matters in a different room We would ask her questions about herself, trying to start a conversation. She always looked like she wanted to be anywhere else but here. Needless to say, it was a terribly uncomfortable situation for Christian and me.

I could sense how stressed my brother was becoming as the weeks went by. I wanted to talk to him like we used to, but I decided against it. I didn't want to interfere. I only hoped that he would somehow learn to love Sarah and everything would turn out all right, even though I cringed when I thought of him spending the rest of his life with that dull woman. However, after about a month, Christian approached me in the library wanting to discuss just that.

"Hey, Rebecca." He came in and sat down beside me. "You know, we haven't had a nice, one on one chat in a while," he said, giving me a weak smile.

I smiled back. "I've missed our talks," I said softly.

"I've missed them, too. I just wish this was over." He put his head in his hands. "I can't do this. I can't marry her. It will destroy everything I've ever dreamed of, everything I've planned."

"How?" I asked.

"You know how. I don't want Father's company, I don't want to live in London for the rest of my life, I don't want to marry someone I don't love." He stood up and started pacing back and forth. "You see, I have this...philosophy," he continued. "Or you could call it...my motto." He paused.

"Yes?" I inquired.

"The greatest thing you'll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return," he stated proudly, staring off into the distance dreamily. I wasn't sure what to think. The words were so simple, yet beautiful at the same time. He looked for my reaction.

"Well...I-I don't..." I stuttered. "It's...nice." I looked away. That was pathetic, I thought.

"I know, it seems too simple," he went on. "But maybe that's really all there is to it. Maybe people just can't accept that life doesn't have to be one big, complicated rush." 

"Maybe," I agreed slowly, still not quite sure what to say.

"What am I supposed to do?" he asked and resumed his pacing. 

"I don't know, Christian. I'm probably not the best one to go to for advice on that," I replied.

"But you're the only one I have!" he cried. That was true. He didn't have any close friends who would be willing to help him with his problems. 

"Please." He touched my arm gently. "Please, just tell me what you think I should do." I glanced at his face. Ugh, I thought, why does he have to have those beautiful, innocent eyes?

"Well..." I began uncertainly. "I really don't think you should make Father upset. There's no telling what he'd do if you completely went against all his wishes."

He looked down. "Yes, I know. I don't want to make him angry. I have a feeling that we haven't seen him at his worst yet."

"So...I think you should keep trying with Sarah. Maybe you can try to compromise with Father."

"Compromise?" He laughed somewhat bitterly. "That word isn't even in his vocabulary. I can't possibly imagine him agreeing to anything I want."

"There could be a way," I said. "You want to be a writer. You don't want Father's company."

"Of course I don't."

"Well then, marry Sarah and convince Father to let you stay here and write rather than work in the company," I suggested.

He sat down and pondered my idea for a while. "I don't know." He sighed. "He won't agree to it. Not right away, at least." 

"Just try," I pleaded. "He has to give in...eventually."

He looked at me somewhat doubtfully. "I'll try," he said. "It would probably be best if I waited for a while; you know, just pretend to do everything he wants, and then try and negotiate with him."

I nodded happily. I tried not to pay attention to the remaining look of uncertainty on his face as he walked out of the library. Pleased with myself, I resumed my reading. Everything will be alright, I kept telling myself. Christian and Father will get along, and everyone will be happy. 

If only I knew then how wrong I was.

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Okay, that's it. I know it was kinda short, but oh well. I hope you didn't think it was too bad!


	3. Another Side of Sarah

I'm sorry it took so long for me to update, my computer had three viruses in it and completely broke down. This chapter is pretty short, but also pretty important I think. Hope you enjoy. 

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Chapter 3: Another Side of Sarah

One particular afternoon after lunch, Christian, Sarah, and I were sitting in the living room. I was reading a book, Sarah was sipping tea and staring out the window, and Christian just sat there in deep thought. After what seemed like hours of silence, Christian stood up and approached Sarah.

he said timidly, sitting down in the seat across from her. He looked into her eyes sincerely. What's wrong?

She was obviously surprised at Christian's sudden odd behavior. I don't know what you're talking about, she said, looking away. 

I think you do. He leaned in a bit closer to her. We are about to be married, yet we know nothing about each other. Tell me about yourself.

She stared at him in confusion, shaking her head. 

I mean, what do you like to do? Sing? Play the piano? What? I dont know anything about you! Christian continued, growing louder and louder. Damnit! This is ridiculous! he cried, standing up and pacing back and forth.

Sarah could only stare in shock. He's gone mad, I thought. He sat back down and gripped the arm of the chair to calm himself. No one spoke for what seemed like ages. Sarah and I were still shocked from Christian's sudden outburst.

I love to write, he piped up, completely out of nowhere. I write stories, poems, songs, plays...everything. I want to be a writer someday, famous or not. I write about love. I'm obsessed with it. Love is like oxygen. Love lifts us up where we belong. All you need is love. He looked up at Sarah. If you even care what your future husband is interested in.

Once again, we were silent. I didn't move a muscle and even held my breath. Why was Christian acting so strangely? Sarah's sudden weeping disrupted my thoughts.

Christian asked, concerned. She covered her face with her hands and tried to smother her sobs. Are you alright?

She hastily swiped her tears away with her hand. No. I...my father just expects me to... She trailed off, trying desperately to control her sobbing. I...I'm sorry. I'm acting ridiculous. I know I can't do anything about this anyway. I'll never be in control of my life, and I should accept it.

Christian gently lifted her chin so that she would see his eyes. No, don't say that. You have a right to make your own decisions. I know you dont love me. You have no desire to marry me. He smiled. Follow your dreams. Before it's too late, and you regret never chasing after them. 

She gazed into his eyes for a moment, pondering his words. But she then shook her head sadly and looked down. I wish I could. But I have no dreams. I'm not like you. This is where I belong. 

Christian stared at her sympathetically, and then moved forward to embrace her. She looked surprised for a short moment, but then hugged him back and laid her head on his shoulder.

Tears fell down my cheeks as I watched the scene before me. I couldn't help it. I regretted ever thinking anything negative about Sarah. She was being forced into this marriage just like Christian. The poor girl...

My thoughts were interrupted by Christian standing up abruptly. He had a serious, angry expression on his face, quite a change from the compassionate face that he had had only a few moments ago. 

That's it. I can't stand it anymore, he said firmly, and marched out of the room. 

Towards Father's office.

Sarah and I glanced at each other. I had a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach. This was not going to end well.

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Well, hope you liked it. Please, if you have time, review and tell me what you think. Thanks!


	4. Changes

Here's the next chapter. I think this one is the one of the better so far. Please review, they help me so much.

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Chapter 4: Changes

That night, while I was studying at my desk in my bedroom, there was a knock at my door. It was Christian.

"Becca, I need to talk to you," he said, kneeling beside me. I noticed the serious expression on his face. I couldn't remember a time when Christian looked so serious. I knew something was going on.

"Alright," I said, put my pen down, and turned to face him.

"I...I'm..." he stuttered, wringing his hands nervously. "I'm leaving."

I stared at him, not sure what he meant. He waited for my reaction, and when I gave him none, he continued.

"Father and I have had an...argument. A very...bad argument, and I've been thinking about what to do. I can't stay here. I'm going to Paris."

"Oh." I smiled. That wasn't such a big deal. "For how long? A few days? A week?"

"No, you don't understand. I'm not coming back." He let the words sink in. "Well, I might come back for holidays and such, but..." He trailed off.

I was filled with dread. He was leaving...for good? Before I could say anything, he went on and on about how he was going to join the Bohemians, live a penniless existence away from Father, write about truth, beauty, freedom, and love, find real inspiration. He described everything with such passion, his eyes shining with desire. His hands gestured around wildly; I had never seen him this excited in my entire life.

"It's everything I've ever wanted!" He paused and waited for my response.

I was speechless. His description of everything sounded wonderful. He would finally be free: free to write, free to dream, free to love. 

But what about me?

"Christian, you're acting ridiculous," I stated, even though I didn't really mean it. I would say anything to keep him home. "You can't just leave! There's no way. Father will not accept this." I crossed my arms across my chest defiantly.

He grinned mischievously. "Father's not going to find out...until it's too late."

I gasped, but before I could say anything, he went on.

"I tried discussing it with him and it ended up turning into a huge fight. 'It's a village of sin! You'll end up wasting your life at the Moulin Rouge with a can-can dancer!'" He imitated Father quite accurately. "He's so stubborn and unreasonable. He'd never let me go in a million years. So I pretended to agree with him and promised him I wouldn't go. But I'm going, and there's nothing that man can do about it," he proclaimed proudly.

"I don't believe this." I stood up and started pacing around my room. "Everything will be ruined. What about Father? The company? All that business school you went through? Sarah?!"

"Those are exactly the reasons I'm leaving. You should know that. I will not spend my life sitting in an office, and I will not marry someone I don't love," he declared. 

"What about _me_?" I asked, plopping back down on the chair.

He put his hand on my shoulder. "I'm sorry. I honestly don't want to leave you." He looked at me with a terribly sad look in his eyes that made my heart melt. "But don't you want me to be happy? I'm finally going after my dreams. I'll...I'll die if I stay here."

I sighed. He always made me give in to anything, no matter what. "Alright," I said.

He kissed my forehead and wrapped me in his embrace.

"Thank you!" He cried. "You're the best sister ever!"

I laughed and hugged him back. "When are you going?"

He hesitated. "Tomorrow night..."

"Tomorrow night?!" I cried.

"Shh!" He covered my mouth with his hand. "Someone will hear you!" 

"That's way too soon, Christian!" I whispered. 

"I have to go before I have another argument with Father," he stated. I knew then that there was nothing I could do to stop him. He longed for this too much. "Well, I'm going the day after tomorrow, in the early morning. Will you walk me to the train station? Please?"

"Yes," I answered. 

We made the rest of our escape plans and he left my room shortly after. I laid in my bed to take everything in. I was losing my brother and my best friend in one night. I tried to imagine life without him, but I couldn't bear to think about it. So I tried to think about how happy Christian would be. He would finally be able to write, and share his work with the world. And most importantly to him, he would be free to love. But I couldn't help thinking about myself being trapped here while he was gone doing whatever he wanted. What was I going to do while he was gone? But doesn't he deserve to be happy? I asked myself. Yes, I kept telling myself, he deserves it. Of course he deserves it.

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I hope you enjoyed it and please please please review! Thank you!


	5. Left Behind

Here's the next chapter. I think this one is my best chapter. Please, I'd really like to know if anyone is reading this. Please review just to at least tell me that someone is. It would be greatly appreciated.

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Chapter 5: Left Behind

Sure enough, there was a gentle knock on my bedroom door at 3:30 AM the next night . Oh no, I thought. I had been hoping that he would change his mind. The door opened a few inches.

"Are you ready?" Christian whispered.

I sighed. "Yes, I'm coming." I tiptoed out into the hall. We crept down the stairs, praying that none of them would creak under our weight, and slipped out the front door. I could now see him clearly with the help of the streetlights. 

"Christian, you only have two suitcases!" I exclaimed.

He chuckled. "One." He held up one suitcase. "This is just my typewriter."

"Come on. You can't survive with just that."

He just shook his head and smiled. "I assure you, I'll be fine. I told you, I'm going to join the Bohemians, live a penniless existence, write about-"

"Truth, beauty, freedom, and love," I cut in. "I know, I know. I've heard it only about a thousand times in the past day." I laughed. "You and Father are absolutely nothing alike."

"When did you figure that out?" He laughed, running his hand through my hair. I tried not to think about how much I would miss him. 

We walked the rest of the way to the train station in silence. I would glance up at him every now and then and see the cheerful expression on his face. I also noticed how energetically he was walking; I almost expected him to start skipping. I couldn't remember a time when he looked as happy as he did then.

When we arrived at the train station, he bought his ticket and then stood next to me in front of the train.

"It won't be long," he said. Neither of us said anything for a few moments. We didn't know what to say. I broke the silence.

"Christian, you must write to me at least once a week," I told him sternly. "Don't forget!"

He smiled. Oh, how I would miss that wonderful, charming smile. "I won't forget," he said. "I promise."

"You know," I began cautiously. "You don't have to go. You can stay here in London and write. Father will have to give in and let you write after awhile. It's not too late to go back."

"No, no." He shook his head. "I have to go."

"Are you certain?"

He smiled, gazing at the train. His ride to freedom. "Yes. I've never been more certain of anything in my life. I can feel it."

I looked down. Those words hurt. I struggled to find the right words to say to him after that.

"I'll be the first one in line to buy your first book," I stated. "You'll be a famous writer in no time." Tears sprang to my eyes, and I had to look away.

"Becca," he said softly, reaching out and gently stroking my cheek. I looked into his beautiful blue-green eyes that sparkled with passion. "I will miss you so much. You are the only one who remotely understands and supports me. The only one who has never ridiculed any of my ideas. You have no idea how much that means to me." I believed every word he said back then. I believed that he was sincere, that he would actually miss me that much. His eyes, his smile--they hypnotized me. 

He glanced back at the train and grinned. Even though I didn't want to admit it back then, I could tell he was anxious for the train to call everyone aboard so he could begin his adventure. He was finally leaving, escaping from the place that had imprisoned him for his entire life. And he was leaving me behind.

A shout came from the train. "All aboard!"

"Well, I'm off," he said, and gave me a hug and a kiss on my forehead. "Goodbye, Rebecca."

"Goodbye," I replied faintly. He approached the train, but hesitated before walking up the steps. My heart leapt. He's changing his mind! I thought. 

He looked around for a few moments, taking in his surroundings. Much to my dismay, he shook his head, turned back around, and walked up the steps. The door snapped shut behind him, destroying what hope I had left. I searched frantically for him through the windows. As the train lurched forward and rolled along, I ran after it, expecting him to appear any second and at least wave goodbye. I ran until I couldn't keep up any longer, eventually realizing that I wouldn't find him.

He didn't want to be found.

I slowly walked home, preparing for the wrath of my father and life without my dear brother.

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I really hope someone out there is reading this and that they're enjoying it. Even if only one person is, then it's worth continuing. I'm starting to feel like I've failed. Thank you to all those who reviewed before.


	6. Returning Home

Boy, have I been busy lately. Anyway, I tried really hard and finally got this chapter done. Oh, thank you so much for all the reviews! I was really shocked when so many people reviewed; it made a huge difference! Thank you sooooo much!

This chapter is kind of different; it kinda starts the second part of the story. It might not be what you expected. 

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Chapter 6: Returning Home

A year and a half later...

I walked along the streets of London and glanced into the windows of the shops. Beautiful dresses, shoes, and jewelry that I knew Father could easily buy for me. I sighed. Life had no meaning anymore. Gone were the days of happiness and childhood fantasy. I was alone in the cold reality of the world. All hope for a better life had gone with Christian.

I always thought about him. I wondered what he was doing in Paris, how he was managing, if he had written many books; if he had fallen in love. I used to check the local bookstore every day, just to check if he had published anything. But he never had.

Father, of course, had gone mad when he found out that Christian had gone. He drank a lot that night, and fortunately I stayed in my room, out of his way. 

"It's all up to you, now," he told me harshly the next day. "Your husband will take over the company when I retire. It's probably better this way anyway. That foolish boy could never handle reality. 

At first, I hoped and prayed that Christian was happy. I hoped that he had found love, inspiration, and maybe even some new friends. But as the weeks turned into months, I found myself thinking angry thoughts about him. I wished something bad would happen so that he would be forced to come home. I prayed that he hadn't found love, that he would eventually give up and come back. 

But I knew it wasn't going to happen. He was probably the happiest man alive, deeply in love, living in a beautiful house in Paris, writing whenever he wanted. He'll never come back, I thought sadly. He's probably forgotten all about me.

I glanced into the window of one particular shop and saw a typewriter on display. It painfully reminded of my brother.

//"Christian, you must write to me at least once a week. Don't forget!"

"I won't forget. I promise."//

I wiped a tear from my cheek as I recalled his words from the day he had left. He promised...he promised! I screamed in my mind angrily. I sat down on a bench nearby and tried to calm myself. What would people think if they saw the daughter of Peter James crying like a child? I thought bitterly. In my anguish, I did not notice the man who sat beside me until he spoke.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" he said softly, but somewhat bitterly. I snapped my head up. 

That voice... 

I stared at him. He looked like a homeless man, wearing several layers of clothes. Some of his face was hidden by his dirty, worn coat. His dark hair was greasy and disheveled. He turned his head to look into my eyes.

"I'm back," he stated unemotionally.

I gasped. No, it couldn't be! His bloodshot, teary gray eyes sent chills up and down my spine. I continued to gape at him, shocked. He unbuttoned the top of his coat to reveal the rest of his unshaven face. And then I knew it was definitely him.

"C-Christian?" 

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Hmmm... not quite sure what I think of it. Tell me what you think.


	7. A Broken Man

Sorry if this chapter sucks, I'm always so busy with school and band and soccer and by the time I have free time to write, my brain is totally fried. But I'm trying my best! I hope you enjoy it anyway.

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Chapter 7

I started to feel dizzy and lightheaded. This has to be a dream, I kept thinking. Here, sitting right beside me, was my long lost brother. The one that I had prayed for every night, pleading with God to let him come home. I had given up hope a while ago, convinced that he would never return. And here he was.

He sighed deeply. "Yes, Rebecca. It's me." 

I didn't know what to do. Hug him? Run away? Scream at him for all that he had done to me?

"I...you...w-what happened?" I asked slowly, referring not only to his reasons for coming back home but also to his appearance.

His eyes started to water as he looked into my eyes. "I lost everything," he replied. "I...I had nowhere else to go."

All of my anger for him completely vanished for that moment and was replaced with sympathy. I cautiously scooted closer to him and wrapped my arms around him. He seemed to relax in my embrace. I smiled, wondering what the people walking by us were thinking. A wealthy, well-groomed girl hugging a homeless man in one of the nicest areas in London was surely a strange site. But I didn't care what they thought. My brother was finally back, and that was all that mattered to me.

But then I remembered something. "Oh Christian, Father disowned you when he found out you had left! He wrote you out of the will!" I said worriedly. 

He simply nodded, looking down at the ground solemnly. "I'm not surprised," he stated. He looked into my eyes. "I need your help."

"Yes, anything," I said eagerly.

"I had to sell almost everything I owned just to get here. I thought that maybe there was some hope that Father would take me back and perhaps let me work for the company. But that's not an option now." 

I could imagine Father's reaction if Christian came into the house. He would be infuriated. 

"I haven't eaten for...awhile," he admitted, looking down at the ground ashamedly. "And I was wondering if maybe you could..."

"Oh! Yes, of course!" I exclaimed, jumping up. "I'll go get you some food right now! And I have some extra money from shopping today, and... here you can have it all!" I shoved the money into his hands.

I could barely see his lips beginning to form a weak smile, amused at my behavior. "Thank you so much. J-Just until I get a job, of course," he said, looking off into the distance sadly.

"What are you going to do?" I asked softly.

He sighed deeply. "I don't know."

"Why don't you write?" I inquired.

"No!" he answered sharply, staring at me with cold eyes. I winced and backed away from him. The angry look in his eyes scared me. "I...I can't write," he said, turning his head away from me again.

"Oh." I was too frightened to ask him why. "I'll...just go get you some food now," I said quickly. I turned and swiftly walked home, keeping myself from looking back at the broken man whom was my brother. Once I arrived home, I excitedly skipped into the kitchen and grabbed all the food I could carry. Christian is back! I kept thinking happily. I snuck out of the house and made my way back to Christian. 

Wow, I thought. This morning I was positive that I would never see him again, and now here he is! I tried not to think about the sad look in his eyes and about his small outburst. My brother was finally home, and that was most important. But no matter how optimistic I tried to be, the vision of his emotionless eyes and tired face would always remain in the back of my mind. 

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Well, I hope you still like it. Ugh, I still don't know how I'm going to end this story. Please review and tell me if it's worth continuing. 


	8. A Cry for Help

I know this story is kinda going slow, but I promise it will get better. Thank you again for the reviews!

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Chapter 8

"Here." I handed the sack of food to Christian. "Thank you," he said wearily. I sat down beside him and watched as he started eating. 

"I arrived here yesterday afternoon," he told me. "I saw you walking down the street this morning and followed you until you sat here," he told me. "Thank God I found you."

"Where did you sleep last night?" I asked softly.

"I spent the last of my money in a hotel," he answered.

"Oh." I stayed quiet for awhile and let Christian eat. But after a few minutes I couldn't take it anymore. I had to ask him the question that was burning in the back of my mind.

"Christian," I began cautiously. "Why...why didn't you write to me? Like you promised?"

He stared at me for a moment, not knowing what to say. "I...I was busy. Y-you wouldn't understand," he finally said. He paused. "Unless..."

"Unless what?" I asked anxiously.

He shook his head. "Never mind. Forget it."

I kept my anger inside, not saying anything more. I didn't understand why he couldn't just tell me.

A few minutes passed as Christian ate his food and I sat there in silence. I watched the people passing by, and then it hit me.

"Oh, no."

"What? What is it?" Christian asked anxiously.

I quickly pointed to a man that was heading our way. "It's Mr. Parkinson. If he sees you, he'll tell Father you're here!"

"W-What should I do?" 

"Hide!" I told him. He jumped up and sprinted behind a big tree just before Mr. Parkinson spotted me.

"Why hello, Miss James. How are you today?" Mr. Parkinson greeted politely.

"Oh, hello Mr. Parkinson! I'm fine, thank you." I answered nervously.

"How is your father doing?"

"Oh, he's fine. Y-Yes, he's wonderful." I prayed that he didn't notice how nervous I was.

He smiled. "So, have you heard anything from your brother yet?"

"Uh, no. Not yet," I replied, briefly glancing toward Christian's direction just to make sure he couldn't be seen.

"Hmm, I do hope the lad is alright. Well, I must be going. Tell your Father I said hello."

"I will, sir."

After I was sure that he had gone, I approached Christian behind the tree. He stood up and looked around to make sure no one could see us.

"I had better go," I said softly. "Before anyone else sees me with you and guesses who you are. You should try to disguise yourself," I advised, even though I doubted anyone could recognize him from a distance.

He nodded slowly, keeping his eyes on the ground. Before I could stand up, he grabbed my hand. "Please, come visit me tonight," he pleaded, his eyes glazed over with tears. "Please."

"I...I don't know," I said. "Father..."

"Just...make something up. Please," he begged. "I don't want to be alone tonight." 

How could I refuse him? He reminded me of a scared little boy who had just woken up from a horrible nightmare. "Alright," I answered. "Where?"

"The alley outside that one hotel down by the train station. At 7:00," he said. "No one you know will even go near that alley."

I agreed, and walked home. I tried my best to act natural when Father came home from work. He couldn't find out about Christian, not yet.

Later that afternoon, I tried to read a book in my room. But all I could think about was Christian. He had changed so much, and not just in his appearance. There was no longer the passion and innocence he had a year ago. Again I wondered what could have happened to him in Paris. Had someone betrayed him? Had they hurt him so badly that he was scarred for life? If anyone did such a thing, they deserve to feel as much pain as Christian obviously does now, I thought angrily. But I had no idea of how much pain my brother was really feeling. 

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	9. Come What May

Here's the next chapter, it's really short and there isn't really a point to it, so I'm going to post the next chapter really soon. The next chapter will be longer and much better, I think. Thank you for the reviews, and I hope you like it.

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Chapter 9

Later that evening, I told Father that I would be right back and headed for Christian's hotel. I was reminded of the last night he had spent in London, when we had snuck out of the house to the train station. As I crept down the street toward Christian's hotel, memories came rushing back to me. His radiant smile and bright blue eyes. The sound of his light laughter echoed in my mind. I missed those days terribly. I wondered if Christian would ever return to his old self again.

As I came closer to my destination, I began to hear someone singing. I stopped for a moment and tilted my head to hear better. It was very faint. Thinking it must be in my imagination, I continued to walk toward the alley. As I drew nearer and nearer, the singing gradually became louder and clearer. I could barely see Christian's silhouette with the weak light of the streetlamp. 

"Never knew I could feel like this

Like I've never seen the sky before

Want to vanish inside your kiss

Every day I love you more and more."

I could tell it was Christian, but his voice sounded so different. It was no longer the young, vibrant voice that it once was. It was still beautiful, but he sounded so much older, and terribly sad. I stayed out of his site in the darkness, watching and listening to his beautiful song.

"Seasons may change, winter to spring

But I love you until the end of time."

He paused for a moment, wiping the tears from his cheeks. I held my breath and observed him quietly. 

"Come what may," he whispered. After a few moments of silence, he suddenly broke down into sobs, sitting on the ground and hugging his knees to his chest like a scared little child. I was stunned, wondering what could have happened in Paris to affect him this way. I had never seen anyone that miserable before.

"Satine," he moaned. "Why did you have to leave me behind?"

All I could do was watch and listen to my brother's sobbing echo through the dark, empty streets of London.

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	10. Christian's Book

To answer some questions, yes, according to the time this story takes place, Christian has already written the book. In fact, this chapter reveals that. Thank you again for the reviews and I really hope you like this chapter! 

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Chapter 10

"Christian, I'm here." I approached him cautiously. I had been waiting in the shadows for what seemed like forever, too frightened to let him know that I had seen him crying. He had seemed to stop crying for awhile, so I decided to make my move.

"Oh, alright. Let's go into my room," he said, leading me to his room on the second floor. It was quite a dirty hotel, with empty bottles lying on the floor. I even saw a mouse scurry away in the corner of my eye. We entered his room and I looked around. It was a small room with a bed in one corner and a tiny bathroom off to one side. A small desk and chair and some other plain furniture didn't change the drabness of the room.

"We can sit here." He sat down in a chair and gestured toward the chair across from him. I sat down gingerly.

"So," he began, "uh...how are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine. You know, same as always. Just doing what Father tells me to and basically staying out of his way."

Christian nodded. "That's good."

That sounded awfully strange coming from Christian. Where was the brother who always urged me to ignore Father and pursue my dreams? Where was the dreamy-eyed boy who believed that anything was possible? Where was the Christian that I knew and loved so much?

I looked behind him around the room and noticed that his beloved typewriter was nowhere to be found. "Whatever happened to your writing career?" I asked. I had to find the answers sooner or later.

"I...just decided that writing is not for me," he replied. "I wasn't very good at it anyway."

"How can you say that? You're wonderful!" I exclaimed. "You write so beautifully! All those wonderful works about love..."

"Stop!" he commanded, covering his ears. "Just...don't talk about that!"

I was puzzled. "But...why not? You always said..."

"Forget everything I ever said about love!" he shouted, spitting out the words nastily. "Love is just a game, a stupid game that ruins lives forever. And even if you do happen to find love, it's just taken away from you before you can do anything to stop it. I was a fool to believe that love can conquer anything. There are many things that are more powerful, whether it be money, or fame...or de-" He stopped abruptly, sighing deeply. He started again, calmer this time. "I'm sorry. Please, just forget about love. You don't need it. It's more trouble than it's worth."

I couldn't believe what he was saying. Never in a million years could I ever even dream of him saying anything like that. We sat in a few moments of silence before he spoke up. "Thanks for coming here. I really appreciate it," he said finally. 

I nodded.. "You're welcome." I hesitated, still affected by the after shock of Christian's outburst. "So...what do you want to talk about?" I asked.

"Uh...how's Father doing? And the business?" he asked impulsively.

"Fine. The business is...the same as when you left, I guess," I replied. I got the feeling that he was holding something back; like he wanted to tell me something important, but couldn't bring himself to do so. There had to be a reason that he requested my presence there that night. 

"Whatever happened to Sarah? Was she upset when I left?" he asked.

"I'm not sure, I haven't seen her since you left. Her father still talks to our father quite a bit, though. Oh yes, and I read in the newspaper a few months ago that she married a Duke!"

Christian suddenly stiffened. "R-really? A...a Duke?

"Oh, yes," I replied. "I heard that they had a wonderful wedding in his mansion. I think he was the Duke of...oh, yes, the Duke of Monroth."

Christian gasped and covered his mouth with his hands. "Oh my God," he muttered.

"What? What's wrong?" He looked like he was about to faint. "Christian?"

He ran his hands through his hair and tried to calm himself down. "Nothing," he mumbled.

I grabbed his arm gently. "Christian, something is wrong. Please tell me! What happened in Paris?"

He shook his head furiously. "No..."

"Why can't you tell me? I can help you!"

"No one can help me!" he shouted and broke down into sobs. I wrapped my arms around him and held him for awhile.

"Whatever happened, you've got to get past it. You've got to go on, Christian."

He pulled away from me and looked at me strangely. 

"What?" I asked, uncomfortable from the way he was staring at me.

"You...you just sounded exactly like... her." 

"Who? What are you talking about?" 

He didn't reply. He just sighed, closed his eyes and began to softly mumble. I couldn't hear anything he was saying. Oh no, I thought. He's gone mad.

All of a sudden, he spoke up. "I lied," he said.

"About what?" I asked.

"I wasn't planning to show this to anyone," he said. "But...I think it's what she would have wanted." He opened a drawer near the side of his bed and took out a book with a plain red cover. "You should go," he whispered. "Take this with you. Don't show it to anyone else." He handed me the book and led me out of the room, closing the door softly behind me. I stood outside his door and stared at the book in my hands for a few moments. _Come What May _by _C. James._ So, he did write a book, I thought. Terribly curious, I ran home as fast as I could.

"Father, I'm home," I said when I came through the door.

Father looked up from his desk. "Where were you?" he asked sternly.

"Oh...I was at the library," I replied nervously.

He grunted in response. "What's that?" he asked, gesturing toward Christian's book in my hands.

"Oh! It's...a book," I answered, clutching the book tightly.

"Yes, I know that!" he said irritably. "What sort of book?"

"Just a book. I...I think it's about...philosophy," I responded.

"Hmph," he grunted. "Well, off with you. I've got work to do."

I grinned and scampered up the stairs to my bedroom, thankful that Father had accepted my story. I plopped down on my bed and immediately opened Christian's book to the dedication page. 

__

"For Satine."

Wanting to find out who this Satine was, of course, I flipped to the first page.

__

"The Moulin Rouge: a nightclub, a dance hall, and a bordello. Ruled over by Harold Zidler. A kingdom of nighttime pleasures. Where the rich and powerful came to play with the young and beautiful creatures of the underworld. And the most beautiful of all these was the woman I loved, Satine, a courtesan. She sold her love to men. They called her the "Sparkling Diamond", and she was the star of the Moulin Rouge. The woman I loved is dead".   


After reading the very first lines, I wondered if this was a true story. Was this what happened in Paris? I continued to read the book that would change my life forever.

__

"I first came to Paris one year ago." 

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So...anyone who was wondering about Sarah got their answer! I wrote this chapter quite awhile ago, and I've been dying to post it! I hope you enjoyed it, please review and tell me what you thought about it.


	11. The Truth

Thank you for the wonderful reviews, they make me feel so much better. This story is almost over, I think I have just one chapter after this one. Oh yeah, and I apologize in advance for the cheesiness and shortness of this chapter. I promise the next one will be better. 

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Chapter 11

__

"Days turned into weeks, weeks turned into months, and then on one not so very special day, I went to my typewriter, I sat down, and I wrote our story. A story about a time, a story about a place, a story about the people. But most of all, a story about love. A love that will live forever. The end."

Tears streamed down my face uncontrollably. I had been reading Christian's book non-stop the entire night. I couldn't put it down. It was honestly the most wonderful book I had ever read. I felt as if I personally knew all of the characters; Satine, Toulouse Lautrec, Harold Zidler, and I even felt that I understood my brother more than ever. The joy and the pain that he went through were described so vividly that I felt as though I also had gone through the whole experience myself. 

As I wiped my face with a handkerchief, I quietly walked out into the hall and checked the clock. 1:30 in the morning! It had all gone by so fast, and I wasn't even a bit exhausted. Without even thinking, I crept down the stairs. Before I knew it, I was out the front door and heading for Christian's hotel. I suppose I was still in shock from the effect of the book, because the walk to the hotel was a complete blur. I didn't even knock on the door; I just burst in to find Christian awake, gazing out his tiny window. He didn't even look my way when I entered. It was as if he was expecting my arrival.

"Christian? W-what are you..."

"I can't sleep," he said before I could finish. "Too much to think about."

I wiped a tear from my cheek. I had to find out the truth. "Was it true?"

He turned his head and looked into my eyes. "Yes. Every word."

"Oh, Christian." I ran over to him and leapt into his arms. I buried my face in his shoulder and sobbed. 

"Shh, Becca, it's alright," he attempted to soothe me, but soon he too was crying.

I picked up my head. "It was so beautiful," I said, making more tears fall down his face.

"I-I miss her...so much," he choked, trying desperately to swallow his sobs.

"You should publish the book," I said sincerely.

He shook his head. "No. I was planning to, awhile back, but . . . no. I can't."

"You should share it with others," I continued. "Satine would have wanted you to."

That seemed to make him think about it. "I...don't know," he replied tentatively.

We sat there in silence for a few minutes, reflecting.

"I should go," I said softly after awhile. "I need to get some rest."

Christian nodded. "Yes, of course."

"You should, too. You need sleep." I advised. "Are you going to be alright?"

He nodded. As I opened the door to go out, he spoke up. "Becca."

I turned to find him staring at me with a dead serious expression on his face. "Yes?"

"Thank you," he said, "for coming over. You don't know how much it means to me."

I stared at him, wondering why I was so important to him now. I simply smiled and replied, "You're welcome."

And then I left. The way Christian was feeling and thinking was still a mystery to me. I worried about him. I could only hope that someday he would be the cheerful, spirited brother that I knew so well.

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Please don't desert me! I was in a corny mood, therefore I wrote a corny chapter. I'm sorry, it won't happen again, I promise!


	12. A New Hope

Okay, this is finally the last chapter. I'm really going to miss writing this! I really hope you liked it, please review and tell me what you thought!

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Chapter 12

The sun shone brightly through my bedroom windows and gently nudged my eyelids open. I groaned as I sat up in bed. I had had a restless night, not being able to stop worrying about Christian. I just had the strangest feeling of dread whenever I thought about him. I wondered if last night had been a dream. It certainly felt like it. 

I glanced at the clock as I entered the hallway. 10:30. I hadn't slept that late in a long time. I was usually up before Father went off to work. I sighed, changed into my clothes, and had the maid, Ms. Shannon, prepare breakfast for me. It wasn't long before there was a knock on the front door.

"I'll get it!" I called to Ms. Shannon. I scampered into the foyer and threw open the door.

There in front of me stood Christian. Not the one I had seen yesterday, but closer to the one I remembered and loved so dearly. His beard had been totally shaved off. There was still dark circles under his eyes, but they were not nearly as noticeable as before. He still wore the same dirty clothes.

"Christian!" I squealed. "You...you're..."

He smirked playfully. "Nice to see you, too."

I laughed and jumped into his arms. "I just got back from the publishers'," he told me. "I dropped my book off, and they're going to let me know if they decide to publish it or not. I think I have a pretty good chance."

"Are you serious?! That's great! I know they'll publish it!" I exclaimed, and started hopping up and down to display my excitement

Ms. Shannon came up behind me. "Master Christian!" she exclaimed, shocked to see him there standing on our front door step after over a year.

"Uh, oh," I muttered. I was worried that she would tell Father about Christian.

"Don't worry about it," Christian assured me. "Father's going to find out sooner or later."

I grinned. "Come in!"

He gazed slowly around the house as he entered, reliving old memories. "I'm, uh . . . just going to go up to my room and get some clothes," he told me as he headed up the stairs.

"Come back down and get something to eat when you're done," Ms. Shannon said kindly.

He smiled at her. Well, at least, he attempted to smile. The corners of his mouth turned up, which I assumed was his best effort at a smile. I knew he wasn't completely back to normal yet. He couldn't possibly change that drastically in one night. But at least he had taken a step toward recovery and filled me with hope. With my help, maybe he could even return to his old self one day. Just maybe.

I waited downstairs for awhile, but I soon decided that I couldn't wait any longer. I bounded up the stairs and knocked on Christian's bedroom door.

"Come in."

"Welcome back," I said as I walked into his room and sat on his bed. 

"Thanks," he replied. He appeared to be in deep thought. "I. . . I need to tell you something. Something important."

"Alright," I said, not thinking much of it. He took a deep breath and began.

"Before you came over last night, after I gave you the book, I-I was going to . . . I was thinking about . . ." He avoided my intent gaze and fidgeted like mad. "Well," he went on, "I was thinking a lot and I couldn't imagine living the rest of my life without Satine, and. . .and I couldn't find a reason t-to go on." I didn't move a muscle. I just stared at him, trying to understand what he was attempting to tell me. "I thought about . . . maybe ending all the pain by. . .by. . . ." 

I didn't need to hear anymore. I knew what he was planning to do. I held my breath as I thought about what it meant. If I hadn't come back to his apartment . . .

"But then you came," he continued, his eyes beginning to cloud with tears, "and you made me realize that Satine wouldn't have wanted me to be like this. I dreamt last night that she was crying for me up in heaven. She said that all she wants is for me to be happy, and move on with my life, and . . . and I remembered her last words. She wanted me to tell our story." He wiped his tears away. "You don't know how much you helped me. You practically saved my life." He stared at me and waited for my response.

I didn't know how to respond. I was still shocked from learning that my brother had nearly 

ended his life just last night. He wrapped his arms around me after I didn't do anything. I shuddered, thinking that if things had gone differently last night, then I wouldn't be here in his embrace.

"Will you help me come back to life?" he asked, piercing my eyes with his gaze. 

"Yes," I answered. I would do anything for him.

We sat there for a few moments in silence. 

"Have you really stopped believing in love?" I asked after awhile.

He looked away for a moment and then shook his head. "No, no. I've always known that love was real. After Satine died, I just . . . I was so devastated and furious that she had been so unfairly taken away from me,. It was the first time I realized that love can't overcome everything." He sighed. "I learned a lot in Montmartre. I was so damn naive before."

No, don't say that! I wanted to say. I wanted to tell him that I still believed in everything he used to say; that I still clung on to his every word. But for some reason, I chose not to say anything.

"Do you think you'll ever love again?" I asked instead.

"No," he replied forcefully. "I'll never love anyone like I loved Satine ever again." He stared out the window with silent determination for a moment, and then turned to me. "But it's not too late for you," he said, and smiled. It was another glimpse of the old Christian, and the first time I had seen him sincerely smile since he had left over a year before. 

I laughed. "You know Father would not like that. He's going to arrange my marriage," I said.

"Ah, yes, it would be absolutely dreadful if you ever turned out like that horrible brother of yours," he mimicked Father, making me break out into a fit of giggles. And for the first time since he had returned, Christian laughed. I savored the moment; the sound of his laughter was music to my ears.

"But seriously," he went on, "I'm sorry about what I said last night. I wasn't thinking right. Love is real, and I know that for a fact because I've experienced it. Love is still all you need." 

A wave of relief washed over me as he said those words. "But what about you?" I asked meekly.

"Don't worry about me," he said resolutely. "Father can't control you forever. When you realize this, you can do anything you've ever wanted to do. Don't give in to him: marry for love only. Nothing else matters, do you understand?" I nodded in response, but that wasn't good enough for him. He held on to my shoulders and forced me to look him in the eye. "Promise me that you'll follow your own dreams; that you won't give in."

Before I could reply, I could barely hear the light clip-clop of horses on the street below, outside the window. I turned my head to look outside, but he seized my shoulders and turned me back to face him.

"Promise me," he said firmly. The intensity of his stare made his eyes seem as though they were burning into my soul.

"I promise," I answered as earnestly as I could. It seemed to satisfy him and he let go, sitting on his bed. I jumped up and glanced out the window. 

"Father's home," I declared anxiously, watching as Father made his way to the front door.

Christian nodded, took a deep breath, and looked at the door nervously. I slipped my hand into his and smiled at him. He smiled back. We slowly approached the door. Whatever happened, we were in it together, for better or for worse. We would face Father down, just as we would face the problems and difficulties of life. And I would always be there for Christian for the rest of our lives, until the day when he would return to his beloved Satine in heaven.

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Please, please review! I'm trying to think of ideas for a new fanfic, but I can't think of anything. I'm proud of this story; it's the only Moulin Rouge story that I have completed. Thanks for reading and reviewing!


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